


A Singular Cog in the Machine

by Listenerofshadows



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Crying, Drowning, Gen, Logan is a sentient AI running biological software, Main Character set on Fire, Partial Memory Loss, Patton is a fluffy dog-cat hybrid alien, Roman may or may not be a runaway prince from an alien planet, This is a Sci-Fi AU, This is basically Firefly in that they're all space outlaws running a smuggling operation in SPACE, Torture, Virgil is a Human and is Anxious what else is new?, Whump, because I said so, because the idea of an AI having to deal bodily functions like eating is somehow amusing to me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2020-12-07 17:34:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20979725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listenerofshadows/pseuds/Listenerofshadows
Summary: "It was pure logic when it came down to it. Why allow harm befall the others if Logan could stop it? Surely, it was much more beneficial for only one to be harmed than for all to undergo excruciating pain and misery. A broken cog is more easily replaced than if the whole machine fell apart."Logan adheres to the belief that needs of the many far outweigh the needs of the one, the latter being himself. Or in other words, Logan sacrifices himself for the sake of the others.





	1. Thoughtless and Empty

It was pure logic when it came down to it. Why allow harm befall the others if Logan could stop it? Surely, it was much more beneficial for only one to be harmed than for all to undergo excruciating pain and misery. A broken cog is more easily replaced than if the whole machine fell apart.

Logan didn’t feel anything after all. He was a robot parading around in an organic body of flesh and blood. He ran on ones and zeros--seeing the world through a rigid programmed mindset. If his lips twitched upwards at one of Patton’s puns or Roman’s singing or even one of Virgil’s snarky remarks, it didn’t mean anything. It was just a coincidence.

The three of them put together had more inherent value than Logan. Logically speaking of course.

Patton was the metaphoric heart of the group. As the cook and medic, he repaired and maintained the crew countless times. He attended not only to the others’ physical needs, but also to their emotional ones. Thus proving him invaluable. Virgil was captain of their small space shuttle; an experienced space smuggler with a penchant for caution. He perhaps borderlined on paranoia, but it was this same paranoia that got them out of trouble. Roman was their cocky pilot and a shrewd marksman with a blaster. It was his big mouth that often got them into the trouble that Virgil drug them out of. Still, Roman’s loyalty knew no bounds.

A more poetic, emotional being might list other reasons the others should be considered a top priority over one’s own. 

Patton was sunshine after a dreary, dismal cloudy day. He was the gentle breeze on a spring day. He was the warmth of hot chocolate and roaring fires during the cold of winter. He helped you reach an optimal performance with his words and actions.

Virgil was the night of the full moon, mysterious yet comforting all the same. He was the strong gale that shook tree branches and warned of the upcoming storm. He was like cough syrup and flu shots, not always appreciated but always striving to fight and protect those he loved.

Roman was the rainbow that accompanied Patton’s sunshine; exuberant and radiant. He was a sweltering midsummer day full of water-gun fights and ice cream. He was the novel you read curled up on your sofa--filled with adventure and romance.

Despite their numerous idiosyncrasies, Logan’s calculations proved their worth invaluable. They made up the world of Logan and so many others. Without them, the system would crash. It was certainly repairable, but not without a hard reset. Logan refused to allow that to happen.

So when hulking shadows threatened to end Patton’s sunshine, cover up Virgil’s moon and obliterate Roman’s rainbow, Logan stepped up.

“Don’t waste your time with those fools and their idiocy,” He said, “I know what you’re after. Take me instead.”

A thousand large pale eyes dissected Logan with their gaze. He stared back, features flat and unresponsive. Logan’s heart beat faithfully, not a second out of tune. He was an advanced AI who wore the skin and bones of a deadman. He didn’t fear anything.

Their dark tendrils shot out, curling around Logan’s form. He didn’t fight the grip even as his feet left the ground. They carried him upwards, until he came face-to-face with their numerous unblinking eyes.

“Alright.” They smiled, displaying rows upon rows of sharp, reedy teeth.

Logan blinked and within a span of that blink--he was plunged into darkness.

What happened next, was blurry and uncertain to him. This was most disconcerting. He remembered things flawlessly, right down to the nanosecond. It freaked the others out at times. It had to be a glitch or an error with his memorybanks. Why else couldn’t he recall the event with clear detail?

What he did remember was what some might refer to as nightmare material. Silhouettes of the others danced around, behaving most unlike themselves. They berated him, attacked him with not only words but physically as well. They bound him with ropes and threw him into a body of water. He flailed about from an instinctual urge as he went into overdrive trying to formulate a solution. He blacked out from it, certain his biological organs would begin shutting down.

It hadn’t been the end of it, simply wishful thinking on his part. Although Logan didn’t make wishes, spoken or not. Really, it was just a rational supposition, that was all.

It continued with Logan jerked awake by fire eating away his clothing. Fire was everywhere, in fact. Wherever he ran, it chased after him. The smoke got to him in the end. It suffocated him until he was left gasping for breath.

The memories grew more distorted and warped the longer it went on. Like an old VHS tape ruined by water. If he focused, he could retrieve flashes of those moments. There was one that stood out more clearly than the rest.

Their tendrils had pinned him down on a horizontal, metallic surface. A huge light shone above, blinding him. They were in the process of doing something but he couldn’t recall what.

“Why?” He rasped, his parched throat screaming for water.

A bemused hearty chuckle erupted from them.

“I thought you knew why,” They said, tilting their head at him, “It was never bounty money or intel I was after. It was test subjects. And what a fascinating specimen you are! A chimera of biological and artificial means.”

Logan opened his mouth to say something. What, he didn’t recall. All that he could was a scalp cutting across his skin, eliciting a scream from him. His flesh pain receptors reacted violently to it.

He didn’t feel anything. He was a machine running biological software. He could shut off the pain signals given to him by his nervous system. He could retreat into his inner programming, enacting a subroutine to take care of the body. He knew he could do this, because he did.

Perhaps this explained why the memories contained errors. The subroutine didn’t properly save them to his memorybanks. Except he started experiencing memory retrieval errors with memories prior to the subroutine activation. How strange and concerning.

It didn’t matter if it had. It’d been the only preventative measures he could take to ensure optimal processing. He ran simulations deep within his programming. Visits to coffeeshops, museums and parks with the others. The scenery of the simulations was beautiful, so life-like. He couldn’t quite get the others right, however. 

He’d spent an adequate amount of time with them, observing their habits. He knew the probability factors of Patton saying a pun in a conversation. He knew various methods of how to restart Virgil after an anxiety attack plagued his systems. He knew how to engage Roman in a dialogue that aided him in finding a solution to his problems.

Yet his stimulations couldn’t capture the exact way Patton bubbled with laughter at his own joke. Or how many centimeters Virgil’s lips curved upwards towards seeing one of them. It certainly didn’t capture Roman’s flamboyant, needless waving of his arms as he spoke. Really, Logan didn’t understand the wasteful exertion of energy. 

However, this latest stimulation was the worst yet. It made him wonder if his systems were failing. That was an absurd proposition to make, considering his software would send him warnings if such a thing was imminent. 

The stimulation started out normally. A movie night hosted in Patton’s quarters, just like they’ve done so many times before in real life. They chose to watch an Earthian cartoon. It was one that the other three were more acquainted with than Logan himself. It didn’t matter. He preferred doing things that resulted in boosting the others’ overall wellbeing.

Roman and Virgil were engaged in an animated discussion of the movie’s events. Logan watched their mouths open and close, unable to hear the words pouring through their lips. Patton looked like he was laughing at something in the movie, his mouth wide open. Logan noted absently that he must be processing auditory input at a sluggish rate than usual.

“Logan?!” A voice cried. He jolted, startled. He took a look around in the stimulation, but it appeared none of the others called his name. Had it been from the movie? He didn’t recall the movie having a character named Logan however.

“Logan, gods, Logan, Logan, please respond--” The person continued, their voice splintering and cracking with each syllable. 

Something grasped him, cradling him in a warm, secure hold. It was only the soft blanket he had since the start of the movie. That had to be it.

“Logan, who did this to you?” Another person asked, their words trembling with rage.

The stimulation froze completely, the others becoming as still as statues. Logan could almost hear his drive whirring with exertion. This was bad. If he overheated, he could possibly die. And he couldn’t die, not when he hadn’t completed his objective.

“I swear by all the gods I’ll kill them, rip their entails out and everything--krafu kniffing dulva--”

“Logan, no, stay with us, wake up!”

Logan’s eyes opened. Which was odd, because his eyes had already been open. His vision was unusually foggy and murky, despite his eyes being artificial implants. He tried moving his head, but found it difficult to do so. A sharp, electrifying shock ran through his whole body. It hurt. It shouldn’t have. Logan didn’t feel anything, emotions or otherwise.

A fuzzy grey shape entered his vision. Logan squinted, the shape crystallizing to a more recognizable image; Patton. His floggy dog-like ears laid flat against his head, an obvious sign of distress. It was then that Logan realized the titekan was the one cradling him. Another two figures flanked Patton on either side. He could only assume them to be Roman and Virgil.

“Pat--patton,” Logan croaked, “y-you’re here?”

He wasn’t sure where here was, just somewhere in the depths of his programming. It had to be a scenario, a way for him to prepare for the worst-case. Because the others couldn’t truly be with him. They couldn’t endure torture the way he could. They’d be torn to shreds, both physically and psychologically. 

The titekan bit back a sob at Logan’s words, “Yes honey, we’re here, we’re so sorry we didn’t get here sooner, but it’s okay, you’re safe now--”

“H-h-hurts.” Logan said, gasping as another pulse of pain hit him. He couldn’t shut off the pain receptors, why wasn’t his body listening to his commands? This was a stimulation, he controlled every aspect, why couldn’t he do it?

“It’s--it’s all over now. I know you’re hurting and--and--we’ll take care of you, we’ll watch all your favorite nature documentaries, how does that sound?” Patton asked, a vibrating noise rumbling in the back of his throat. Titekans tended to make soothing sounds for themselves and others in pain. Logan watched him do it to Roman and Virgil before, but never for Logan. His abnormal AI reflexes and accelerated healing kept him from grievous injuries.

“G-g-g--good.” Logan said. It was getting even harder to utter words, let alone keep conscious. He’d never experienced this before. This loss of autonomy was terrifying. Perhaps something in his face revealed this, because Roman and Virgil came closer. Roman took hold of his hand, squeezing it. Virgil gingerly touched his knee. They spoke words but Logan couldn’t process them. It was happening again. The stimulation was glitching. So he closed his eyes, losing consciousness as his systems restarted. 


	2. Circuits and Wires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ERROR. Systems crashed. Restart? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi remember seven months ago when I said I would write a second part? Good times. This turned into a three-parter, but the good news is that I already have the third part written so you don't have to wait another seven months to read it. I played around with the formatting in this, if you need a version without the formatting and/or zalgo text, please let me know
> 
> Chapter Specific Warnings: Referenced Torture, Panic Attack, PTSD, Zalgo Text, Nightmare, Blood Mention, Injuries, Strangling, Partial Amnesia

ERROR. Systems crashed. Restart? 

Restarting...Restarting...Restarting

W̨̧̻̱͓͐̃̿͂͡Ą͇̦̳̓̂̊͠R̢͎͕͕͙̃̄͘̕͝Ṇ̨͎̮͑̌͘͘Ḭ̲̩̂̂͠N͓̬̺͌̾͐G̛̗̲͚̈́͒͗ͅ ͢͠S͈͓͒̃͜͠Y͈̓Ş͘T͕̖̑Ȇ̥M̟̳͐̀ ͜f͍̓ä̲́͢͞Í̮L̤̊URe̢̕

_\--ton! We’re losing him!_

_ Not….get him stabilized..._

_ What _

_ Is That? _

_ Logan! _

_ Can you… _

_ hear me?_

Activating Protocol L1G8N. All programs unnecessary maintaining system stability have been shut off. Sequencing….Sequencing complete. Running diagnosis check. System is running at 40% its usual capacity. Initiating hibernation mode to ensure updates and system repairs can be achieved. Initiation Complete.

.....

....

...

..

.

“A cheetah can run up to seventy miles per hour. They are the fastest land animal on the planet Earth. However, this speed can only be maintained for a few seconds. For our cheetah mother, a few seconds is not enough to catch up to her prey. With defeat, she must stop and conserve her energy for a better opportunity to secure a meal for herself and her cubs. If not…”

A voice. Measured and methodical, soothing to the ears. He could not discern where it was coming from. It seemed familiar, something he could recall hearing previously. Yet that memory laid restricted in his memory-banks. He couldn’t access any memories, in fact.

Who was he? Where was he? He tried doing a visual scan of his surroundings but his bio-optics were down. No sight, just a voice within darkness. A tactile scan also failed, this time with a thousand red flashing warnings and pain. Crippling, debilitating pain. Like his hard-drive overheating, whirring with exertion but so much worse.

A different sound joined the voice in the darkness. A croaking, choking cry that belonged to a wounded animal. Not him, certainly not him.

“Logan?” Someone asks, speaking over the voice droning on about savannah wildlife. They grasp his hand and his whole system freezes. Expecting an attack, breach on his firewall and entire code. They simply hold his hand, in a firm, comforting clasp. 

“Hey, it’s alright, Brainiac. You’re here now. You’re safe. You’re never going back there, alright? Never.” The person said, running their thumb over his knuckles. He didn’t know what those words were referring to. He didn’t know who the person was--although they felt as familiar as the first voice. Perhaps even more so. 

However, he found it alleviated many of the warnings flooding his systems. The voice ensured security, protection against viruses and hackers. His own anti-virus program perhaps. 

He could not hold awareness for long. His systems drifted back into hibernation, into a murky nothingness.

....

...

..

.

Running. He was running, lungs pushing for air and legs pulling forward faster than he’d ever gone. Sweat dripped down his brow, the biological coolant to prevent overheating. Like a cheetah, he couldn’t maintain this speed for long. He just hoped it was enough—

_‘The probability of achieving success is 0.03%.’_

In a very illogical move, he kept running. He supposed it could be blamed for the biological blood in his veins, to quote an idiom. Even if so, he was an android with a biological mainframe. The body he inhabited was not a part of his code. To claim such a thing would be comparable to referring to an automotive vehicle you drive was a part of your composition makeup.

“There you are!”

His thoughts and body slammed to a halt. A thousand eyes glinted with amusement. Tendrils sprayed all around him, cutting off any routes of escape. A smile full of teeth that was anything but friendly.

“Fascinating,” They crooned, a tendril gripping his chin, “You should be temporarily paralyzed right now, unable to move a single muscle.

“Yet here you’ve run fifteen-hundred yards and stand of your own free will. How did you do it? I must know.”

It was then his heart metaphorically sunk. Because he’d never been close to escaping. It’d been all part of an experiment and like a witless lab rat, he fell for it.

Logan didn’t respond, eyebrows narrowed in a gesture that might be seen as defiant.

The amusement drained from their eyes. “Tell me.” They demanded, the tendril wrapping around his neck, tightening. “Tell me or I’ll hunt down your friends, one-by-one.”

No. He couldn’t allow that to happen. Logan tried opening his mouth but all that came out was a gargled squeak. The tendril was choking him now, cutting off his airways. As android as he was, he panicked. He couldn’t breathe, he was going to die, he was going to die—

“Logan!”

He thrashed and flailed, trying to get the tendril off of him. But it wouldn’t budge. It held him down, pinning him in place. Like a butterfly on a collector’s board.

“Logan, please—”

He growled, baring his teeth in a very primitive gesture. Whatever intimidation he hoped to gain was lost as liquid seeped against his torso. With it, came a stinging sensation worse than the time Roman unwittingly led them into a rancor’s nest.

“Oh fuck, Patton? Roman?! Get in here, he’s reopened something!”

_Hibernation Mode Initiated._

What? No, he couldn’t go into hibernation. Not in the face of present danger.

“Override—” He croaked but it was too late, the damage had been dealt. The melatonin kicked in as the clamor above him grew louder.

...

..

.

Scanning systems. Diagnosis complete. Biological tissues are 54% recovered. Estimated full recovery in one-thousand four-hundred sixty gala hours. ERRORrrrr memory files are corrupted. Restore? Warning! Unable to restore due to Protocol L1G8N. Restoring memory files could lead to instability within the systems.

OVERRIDE ALPHA-NINER-NINER

Protocol L1G8N disengaged. Restoring memory files…restoration complete. Cycles 1-10803 restored. Alert! Cycles 10741-10800 are unstable. 

A̶̢̮̲̟̝͋͜ ̷̢͕̱͈̻̗̣̩̱̾̆̓̍̎̚̕͝L̴̝̠̈́ ̸̪̥̙̠͚̇̾͛Ḛ̵̢͖̊̀̓͠ͅ ̴̩͉̋̅̃̚͝͠R̴̢̧̺̞͛̍̈͛̉̃́̚͝ͅ ̷̢͚̟̥͚̳̞͓̰͐̈́͗̒͌͆̂͘̕T̷̖͕͚̩̎͑̀̂̑̈́̂̽̅͝

..

.

The first thing he registered was the dull, minimal amounts of data his pain receptors were sending him. Most likely some sort of analgesics reducing the amount of prostaglandins his body would produce. Or in other words, rather than his AI shutting off the pain signals, it was the cause of a painkiller. 

The second thing was the warmth radiating around him. Not from a blanket or the climate but from a warm-blooded body. Warmth could be a dangerous thing for him, both biologically and mechanically. Extreme amounts of it could kill him. This warmth was different. It was nowhere near the dangerous levels. If anything, the other person’s warmth seemed to keep him anchored.

His head rested against the nook of their shoulder, their arms wrapped around him in not a constraining but comforting hold. Objectively comforting, of course. His biological body needed tactile touch to survive. It responded out of its own vocation to it.

The third thing happened to be singing. Low and rumbly, sometimes off-key but not terribly too off-key. Some might argue it captured the song better than a classically-trained opera singer could ever hope to achieve. 

“Takka toya taya

Yul se umting kaiting

Ritka forka eyis

Yul se Arden fayee.”

It wasn’t GCL (Galactic Common Language). It took him a moment to register the words and translate them. It was Titekan. He cracked his eyes open but it found it useless when he was squished against the person’s shirt.

“Patton?” He asked, his throat throbbing in protest. It took more effort than it should to just speak one word.

“Logan! You’re awake?” A question for a question was hardly an actual answer. Still, it was Patton no doubt. He managed to crane his head back to look up at the Titekan.

“I think that is a rather obvious observation.” He grumbled, ignoring the dry, scratchiness of his vocal chords.

Patton laughed. Logan could feel the vibration of it rattling the other’s chest. It sounded...different than his usual bursts of laughter. Logan did not understand why. “Roman! Virgil! Look who’s awake!”

What? Logan hadn’t been aware of the others’ presences. Impossible, he always knew their whereabouts. It helped when one could track heat signals and had a connection to the ship’s circuitry. Perhaps he misheard Patton?

_THUMP_.

Logan blinked, jostled by the sudden appearance of a mop of disheveled amber hair and curled horns. Ruby eyes shined up at him with unbridled glee. 

“Logan! My most obdurate, appalling, loquacious fiend of a nerd!”

“Ahh, hello Roman.” Logan managed to say in response. Roman beamed, his reptile-like tail whipping back and forth much like a dog.

“Whoa, careful with that thing, you could take someone out with it.”

Virgil. Logan turned his head to see the human standing there with his arms crossed. His figure slightly slouched, his eyebags significantly darker than usual and a few more grey hairs than when Logan last saw him.

“You are all acting weird,” Logan said, never one for subtlety, “Is something wrong?”

Roman’s tail drooped, as did Patton’s ears. Virgil just looked away, his head turned enough to make his expression indiscernible. 

“Lo, what’s the last thing you remember?” Patton asked, his voice soft and hesitant.

“I…” Logan stiffened, blood draining away from his face. Images flooded his central cortex, pulled from relevant memory files. Logan slipping out of the ship during the others’ sleep cycles. The thousand unblinking pale eyes. The images glitching, corrupted. The stabbing, burning, thrashing, drowning, strangling--the list went on and on. He retreated into his code. The simulations. So real, but never enough.

N̶̗̲̈́̆͊̿̓̕ ̶͍̻̲̉͌̈́̽̑͐͠E̵̠̰͑͊͑̌̔ͅ ̷̰̥̝̘̞̽̇̌͑̚͝V̵͗̈́͊̚ͅ ̴̛͎̳̺̮͂͌Ę̸͙̫̂͂͌̽͝R̸͚̪̬̾̌ ̸̛̙̣͍̦̮͈̹̽̿͋̆͛͊Ȅ̷̜̮͙̚ͅÑ̴̦̙̭͘Ơ̶̧͖͎̟̽U̷̻̽̈̌̋Ģ̵̖̫͔͕̹̽͐͛̊̽Ḧ̸̲̹́̅h̶͍̼͔͎̟̟͖̅͛͗h̸̻̘͔͕͖̦͍͒̈́͒̓̑̈́̾h̶̛̟͓̗͉͚̿̔

“LOGAN!”

He jolted, his heart beating wildly out of rhythm. Much like Virgil’s during a panic attack. That wasn’t right. He was a machine, his body no more than a method of transportation. No emotions, only logic. 

He didn’t lash out in anger whenever the others were mistreated (a lie). He didn’t panic when the others’ lives were threatened (another lie). He didn’t love the others enough to sacrifice his continued survival for them (an even bigger lie than the other two combined). 

“Logan, can you breath in for me?” A voice asked, gravelly and rough that it was so undeniably Virgil. He was confused. Virgil’s question indicated his breathing was not fine.

“Y-yyo--” He tried speaking, the syllables lost in shallow gasps of air. He jerked his head side-to-side, frustrated. His airflow was indeed erratic. The automatic breathing program was down, unresponsive to his pings. Unless the body was experiencing a heart attack or stroke of some kind, this shouldn’t be happening. 

“Don’t try speaking, okay?” A hand brushed his bangs away from his face, “Just breathe in with me, alright?”

Logan nodded affirmatively, liquid starting to dribble down his cheeks. Obviously a malfunction with his tear ducts. An internal count-down started as he inhaled with Virgil.

One-thousand, two-thousand--his breath cut short, too shallow and spluttery. There was a sob, shattered and broken.

“Hey it’s okay. Let’s try again, alright?” 

“You can do it, we believe in you.” Roman’s voice joined in. Patton didn’t say anything, but from the rumbling reverb of his chest, Logan knew he was there supporting him.

Logan wanted desperately to speak, to argue with them. Part of him wondered if this was another experiment. A test to see how he’d react to dying by asphyxiation. The others were simply fake, not real. They couldn’t be real--they’d promised--

“One...two...three...four.” The words broke through his internal processing. Logan knew them well. He’d spoken them to Virgil to help fight off panic attacks that snuck past his firewalls. Logan latched onto them akin to a shipwreck survivor holding onto driftwood in a raging ocean.

It was slow-going. Several times the waves knocked him back, almost drowning him. With each setback, came soft words buoying him forward. Eventually, his breathing stabilized, reaching the blissful metaphorical shore at last.

Logan’s eyes flickered between his three crewmates, surveying them carefully. There was so much he wanted to say. No, so much he _needed_ to say. 

For possibly the first time in his existence, he was completely bewildered. If this was one of their experiments, where was the macabre twist? And it couldn’t be a simulation. Logan was always aware inside a simulation. He crafted them himself, after all. That left one option...reality.

Yet, that too didn’t make logical sense. Logan was the ship navigator and engineer; an important cog in the machine but one easily replaced. For them to go through the hassle of retrieving him...it just did not compute. 

He couldn’t express any of this confusion. His limbs became fraught with fatigue, his eyelids growing heavier by the second. He could not fight it for much longer.

“I think....I am falling unconscious.” He said, before doing just that.


	3. Soul and Emotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan woke up alone for the first time in a long while. Approximately sixty-six cycles, five hours, thirty-two minutes, four, five, six seconds ago. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the comfort, my friends 
> 
> Specific Chapter Warnings: Injuries, Referenced Torture, Crying, Misunderstandings, Angst With a Happy Ending

Logan woke up alone for the first time in a long while. Approximately sixty-six cycles, five hours, thirty-two minutes, four, five, six seconds ago. 

_ ‘Internal Clock program is running functionally,’ _ Logan thought as he closed his eyes, running a quick diagnosis scan. It was not...completely optimal. Parts of his code had been ravaged, leaving him vulnerable and exposed. His biological body still suffered grievous breaches. His artificial eyes were damaged, only working at 70% efficiency. 

This made viewing things from a distance rather difficult. However, it was clear enough to recognize he was not in his own quarters. Rather, he was still in the ship’s common recreation area. The “living room” as Virgil referred to it. 

He laid on the couch, swaddled in soft blankets and cushioned with a plethora of pillows. Both he expected came from Patton’s hoard in his quarters. He was almost surprised not to see a stuffed animal in the crook of his arm. The television was on, the volume lowered to only a pleasant murmur could be heard. Images of animals flashed onto the screen. A nature documentary, one that Logan had previously found to be captivatingly informative.

_ “--we’ll take care of you, we’ll watch all your favorite nature documentaries, how does that sound?” _

Patton had said that, he recalled. But when? He tried locating the source of the memory file. Except--

_ ERROR MEMORY FILE CORRUPTED. _

He dug a bit deeper, finding more and more memory files in a similar disarray. He’d known this problem was occurring. But that didn’t explain the chill that swept through his body just then. A fever perhaps? No, his body temperatures remained at their normal regulated levels.

Before he could contemplate this further, his ears picked up on noises in the distance. Too far away to make it out from his position. There was a simple solution to his quandary. The ship computer. Or  _ Odysseus _ as Roman insisted on calling it. He could request an audio transcript. 

_ Pinging...pinging...pinging… _

He couldn’t reach the ship computer. That was not optimal. His only option was to investigate the noises himself.

Logic dictated he was wounded. He should remain on the couch unless absolutely necessary. He remained put, concentrating on the television. The urge to find the source of the noises would not go away. It festered, growing rapidly like a disease until he could not withstand it any longer. 

Standing up from the couch proved far more difficult than he anticipated. His torso flared in pain, his legs shaky and unstable. He gripped the side of the couch, breathing in deeply. His vision spun, distorted and decorated with bright spots of light. It took a moment for it to completely clear.

He looked down the corridor, the distance stretching into oblivion. No, that was a falsehood. It was only ten meters long. However, in his current physical state it might as well be a thousand meters.

It didn’t cause his pressing curiosity to fade in the slightest. He took a step forward, his foot stinging like pins and needles, to quote an idiom of Virgil’s. He didn’t collapse. Granted, he heavily leaned onto the couch for support. He took another step forward and then another.

He held onto the corridor wall the whole way, a small grunt of pain leaving him. The dizziness returned, but he pushed through it. All that mattered was reaching the end of the corridor. If Logan’s memory was still accurate, it should lead to the ship galley. Perhaps the others were engaged in re-energizing through fuel consumption? 

As he drew close, the noises crystallized into recognizable speech. 

“Are you sure?” Virgil’s voice asked, pointed and edged. Someone responded, much too low for Logan to catch. He gritted his teeth, propelling himself onward at an accelerated rate. His vision frizzled and crackled, everything becoming a blobby mess of colors.

“Maybe we should--Logan!” 

An arm wrapped around his waist, hoisting him up. Logan opened his mouth to protest when a wave of nausea hit him. He quickly shut it in favor of keeping his stomach contents down. The person guided him to a chair, careful and steady. He sat there, grimacing as the nausea gradually subsided.

When he glanced up again, he met the furrowed brows of Roman, Patton and Virgil. They gathered around him, forming a semi-circle. He examined them, scrutinizing every detail. His drive whirred from the amount of tests he processed in the matter of nanoseconds. Each one proving the validity of his suspicions every single time.

“You’re real.” He croaked.

They all exchanged a glance.

“Yes, we’re here Logan, you’re safe now,” Patton confirmed, laying a hand on Logan’s shoulder. A gesture meant to be reassuring except it wasn’t reassuring at all. 

“No,” Logan shook his head, “You should--cannot---I don’t--it does not make sense!”

“Why does it not make sense?” Roman asked, dropping down on one knee. He acted odd, more muted than usual. The way his head bowed indicated a sign of exhaustion. Logan shook this thought aside in an attempt to formulate a response.

“To quote Spock from the movie Star Trek II Wrath Of Khan, ‘ The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one,’” Logan said. Upon their blank stares, he elaborated, “A singular cog in the machine is more easily replaced than if the whole machine falls apart. As the ship engineer and navigator, my role is vital but replaceable, therefore--” 

Patton drove into Logan, embracing him firmly around his middle. The titekan’s whole frame shook as deep, guttural sobs fell erupted from him. Logan blinked, almost short-circuiting from this unexpected turn of events.

“I...do not understand.” Logan admitted. He glanced up at Roman and Virgil only to find them in similar states of malfunction. 

“You colossal intelligent idiot,” Roman murmured, his face dripping with ivory tears. He shoved his head against Logan’s shoulder, placing his arms around both him and Patton. “Did you really think we could function without you?”

_ "Yes."  _ Logan wanted to say, but he couldn’t. The word wouldn’t come out of his clenched throat. Virgil was the only one left standing at this point. He was the captain, the system administrator. He was a much-appreciated source of reality. Surely, despite his human emotions, he understood the logic. 

“Lo,” Virgil sighed, running his hand through his hair, “When you disappeared, we searched all over the galaxy looking for you. We looked for  _ weeks _ . And after we found you, we’ve been taking care of you in shifts. You know why?”

Logan shook his head.

“Because you’re not a broken cog to us. You’re more than that--you’re a kraffing sentient being. You’re--” Virgil’s voice wobbled. He inhaled harshly, pushing on, “Dammit, you’re family, Logan. And it’s cheesy but we don’t give up on one another. Never.”

“Captain Fearless is right,” Roman said, and Patton made a rumbling sound of agreement.

“Oh,” Logan managed, swallowing, “ _ Oh. _ ”

He’d thought so much about the others’ and their importance to the system. He analyzed and calculated it all. He saw how removing any of their variables would be detrimental. But in all his calculations, he never considered how he _ himself _ affected the equation. 

“I did not--I made a slight miscalculation--” Logan breathed in, “I am sorry.”

“No,” Virgil said, stepping closer, “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I should’ve told you, I assumed it was an understood thing. We could’ve rescued you sooner if I hadn’t second-guessed myself--”

“Virgil.” Logan said, the clenching feeling in his throat tightening. Wordlessly, he reached out a hand to Virgil. He wasn’t quite sure what he was attempting to convey. Fortunately Virgil seemed to understand. He leaned over and joined the entangling of limbs and bodies. 

_ ‘A group hug,’ _ Logan’s dictionary program informed him,  _ ‘ _ _ an instance of three or more people embracing one another simultaneously, typically to provide support or express solidarity.’ _

They held onto one another for quite a while, not moving a single muscle. Great globs of tears were shed amongst them all; even Logan wasn’t immune to it. He rationalized it was his body reacting to the others’ emotional displays. It probably did not have to do with the strange, tingly warmth lit up inside his chest.

He would worry about this sensation if not for the melatonin in his system starting to take effect. He closed his eyes, a long intake of oxygen following this action. 

“Logan?” Patton sniffled.

“Yes?” 

“Th...there’s something we need to tell you about.”

Logan’s eyes fluttered open. He looked expectantly at Patton, waiting. The titekan opened his mouth to continue, but Virgil and Roman beat him to it.

“Patton, are you seriously going to tell him--”

“We should wait--”

“No,” Patton said, interrupting them both, “we can’t keep this from him. He deserves to know.”

It didn’t increase in volume, but Logan’s heart was the only thing roaring in his ears. Deserves to know? The only scenarios Logan could come up in his mind was his tests were faulty, wrong wrong wrong about this being real. It was all fake. A simulation, surely or worse; an experiment. The thousand eyes watching him behind a screen, shattering his hopes once more.

“Logan?” A soft hand touched his cheek, “you with us?”

“Yes,” Logan heard himself saying, “Yes, I’m here. Go on, Patton. What is it that you’d like to divulge?” 

“When we brought you back, I did a few medical scans, to try and see if there was any internal bleeding going on,” Patton hesitated, refusing to meet Logan’s eyes, “I found an AI chip in your brain.”

What? Impossible, his AI was supposed to be undetectable by scans--

“That disgusting buvah must’ve stuck it in you for the kriffs and giggles,” Roman growled, his scaled tail whipping with indignation. 

“As far we can tell, it doesn’t have a tracker,” Virgil said, “and removing it could be lethal.”

“Okay.” Logan said faintly. 

“Okay?” Roman repeated, squinting, “We just told you that you have a freaky AI chip in your brain and your response is, ‘okay?!’”

“Hey, lay off him, Princey,” Virgil hissed, “He’s been through a lot, you know that.”

“Well,” Logan began, “this is not how I expected to inform you all of the fact that I am an advanced artificial intelligence operating inside of a biological body.”

“What?!” Roman gaped at him. Virgil and Patton also stared at him, showing similar signs of duress. 

“I did not think it was imperative intel as it did not negatively impact my performance as neither an engineer or navigator.” Logan said. And while it was true, it was also a bit of a lie. The reality was that most people seemed to be wary of AIs. This was why he chose to clothe himself with a biological body to blend in, so to speak. All it took was working lungs and a beating heart for others to respect and listen as illogical as that may be.

“I admit, that perhaps that was another lapse of judgment on my part. I understand if knowing this...makes you uncomfortable,” Logan added, a weird twisting feeling settling in his gut. Perhaps he was ill? He could not find himself to meet their gazes. He tried not thinking about how that was a sign of nervousness. He was not nervous, after all, AIs do not get nervous.

“Freaky?” Roman let out a high-pitched laugh, “did I say freaky? I meant to say there’s a freaking fantastic AI chip in your brain.”

“I agree,” Patton chirped up, “You could almost say that he’s too cute to  _ compute _ !”

Now it was Logan’s turn to gape at them. “It really does not bother any of you?”

“It’s like I said,” Virgil smirked, “you’re family. We love you, AI or not.”

Logan blinked, slowly processing the others--no, his family’s words. It didn’t make  _ sense _ . His systems struggled putting it in neat, quantifiable boxes. He feared trying would only result in his systems crashing. For once, however, he found it didn’t matter that didn’t need to make sense.

So his response to this was purely logical. In ways Logan refused to elaborate or share even within himself.

“I...find you all sufficient as well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a blast to write, even if it took seven months to finish it. Hope you guys enjoyed it! <3


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